


Worse Than Nicotine

by amemorymaze



Series: Nicotine [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: BadBoy!Blaine, M/M, Skank!Kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 04:07:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2136426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amemorymaze/pseuds/amemorymaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Blaine needs Kurt (not just to fix his car) and Kurt can't help but <i>always</i> give Blaine what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worse Than Nicotine

With hands covered in grease and oil – the grime sticking underneath his fingernails – and his coveralls wrinkled, the bell above the door rings. His hair is a mess, sweat causing the pink strands to stick up from where he’s ruffled it.

“Sorry, I’m about to close up,” Kurt says without looking up from the car he’s working on.

“Hey,” Kurt hears and his gaze moves to the doorway where there’s a boy standing there wearing a school uniform, his hazel eyes flickering in Kurt’s direction. He’s standing with his shoulders wide; an air of confidence radiating off of him.

“Blaine,” Kurt rolls his eyes, wiping some of the grease off of his hands and onto the coveralls. “What are you doing here?”

Blaine stays silent, looking anywhere but Kurt as he shrugs his blazer off of his shoulders.

“Again?” Kurt says, slamming the hood of the car he was working on shut; “Are you serious?”

“Look, man, can you help or not?” Blaine groans; “They keyed the body and it’s not running properly - won’t accelerate.”

Kurt sighs, “Fuck, fine. You owe me though.”

Blaine smirks as Kurt walks towards him, “Don’t I always?”

Kurt smiles as he walks up to Blaine, looking down into his golden eyes, so close that he can count every eyelash and feel Blaine’s breath against his lips.

Just as Blaine leans closer, their breath tangling together, Kurt whispers, “Don’t forget it,” before stepping past him and through the door towards Blaine’s bike.

+

Fifteen minutes later finds Blaine sitting on the hard, cold floor with his legs crossed and a cigarette dangling from his lips as he watches Kurt work on his bike.

Without looking back Kurt says, “Stop staring at my ass, Anderson.”

Blaine just laughs as he takes the last drag from the cigarette before stumping it out on the ground, “Am I not allowed?”

Kurt grumbles, “No, your privileges have been revoked until you get rid of this god damn fucking bike,” he slumps down onto the ground, throwing his tools back in the box before saying; “Fuck this. I can’t fix it tonight, Blaine.”

Blaine groans, “You’re serious.” It’s not a question.

“Whoever messed with it did a good job - I need to order new parts and they won’t come until next week.”  

“Fuck,” Blaine says, “I need to get back to school or I’m going to get suspended. _Again_.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, “Were you even supposed to be out?”

“Well, technically - no. But I signed myself out,” Blaine says; “My parents are going to fucking kill me if they suspend me.”

“For fuck sake -” Kurt says, standing up and moving towards Blaine, “Give me your phone.”

“What? Why?”

“Give me the phone, Blaine.”

Huffing out a sigh of annoyance, Kurt dials a number as Blaine hands him the phone.

“What are yo- Who are you calling?” Blaine says as Kurt holds the phone up to his ear only to get Kurt’s hand in his face, telling him to shut up.

“Hello, this is Marie Anderson,” Kurt says, holding his breath as he makes his voice even higher than usual, “I just wanted to let you know that Blaine’s staying home this weekend due to a family emergency, so he won’t be back until late Sunday evening.”

There’s a moment of silence and Kurt breathes, “Thank you for understanding. Bye,” before hanging up and throwing the phone in Blaine’s dumbstruck face.

“No need to thank me,” Kurt says, smirking as Blaine get’s up off of the floor, “You can stay at mine - Dad’s in Washington.”

Blaine laughs, “I guess your high voice does come in handy sometimes.”

Kurt punches Blaine in the arm, “Shut up, asshole.”

+

Blaine sits in that old treehouse in the back of Kurt’s garden, leaning against the wooden wall with a cigarette in hand and a half-empty bottle of whisky between his raised knees. His gaze is trained on Kurt, whose hair has gone even more of a mess, the floppy pink strands falling onto his forehead from the way he’s been running his hands through it as he paces backwards and forwards. He’s ranting about the guys that keep messing with Blaine’s bike; “You can’t keep riding that death trap, Blaine, it’s going to _kill_ you one day.”

And Blaine just smirks lazily up at Kurt, “Babe, you’d care if I died?” He says, taking a drag from the cigarette, “I’m honoured.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, crouching down to snatch the bottle from Blaine’s knees, “Of course I do, asshole.”

He stares into Kurt’s eyes, that fire inside roaring as he shrugs.

Kurt, after taking a gulp from the bottle, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before his grabs Blaine by the collar of the leather jacket that he stole from Kurt, hauling Blaine towards him.

Before their lips touch and just as Kurt can feel the brush of Blaine’s eyelashes on his cheeks, he says, “You’re the only thing in this damn town worth caring about.”

And their lips crash together, Blaine’s hands resting on Kurt’s waist underneath the oil-stained t-shirt, skin on skin, as Kurt cups Blaine’s face, pulling him closer, closer, _closer_.

Kurt sighs into the kiss as Blaine opens his mouth; their breath tangling together along with their tongues. They battle for dominance - Kurt pulling his mouth closer and Blaine pulling his hips; laying his legs down flat so they can fit closer.

Kurt’s knees frame Blaine’s legs as they mouths move together, tasting whisky on Blaine’s tongue and the stubble on his neck. They kiss and kiss until they can’t feel their lips and Blaine’s grabbing at the buckle on Kurt’s belt - wanting more and more.

They keep pushing and pulling at each other until the alcoholic haze has worn off and the stars are shining bright outside and the night air is silent around. The cool air barely noticed by the two boys as they lay in a heap on the floor, gasping for breath.

They _breathe_ in tandem; their legs tangled and Blaine’s arm thrown over Kurt’s waist until they slip away into unconsciousness.

+

And on Sunday, Kurt drives Blaine back to school, who’s wearing Kurt’s too big shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his tie is askew from the way Kurt has tugged at it because “ _You need a break, Kurt,_ ” lead to making out in the backseat amongst whispered confessions of _“I’ll miss you”_ and, _“I hate that you’re so far away”_ \- things that they don’t dare to say out in the open or away from ecstasy.

But when they finally arrive at Dalton and Blaine get’s out of the car, Kurt rolls the window down and leans out of the window slightly before tugging Blaine into a searing kiss - full of heat and passion.

When he pulls away there’s a dangerous glint in his eyes and Blaine smiles slightly. But then the spell is broken and Kurt steps on the accelerator and drives away - leaving Blaine on the steps of the school, his fellow students staring in disbelief as Blaine walks up the steps, shrugging his blazer on his shoulders, a smirk crossing his face.

 

 


End file.
